The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-04-09
WESTMINSTER, MD, SATURDAY, APRIL 8, 1887

arewels caused by this delay. Mirandy gathered up
the fragments. There r. said she, spitefnlly; "you
and me. Mis- Burr, hev got cake enough to last one
while AS for that Luke, he won't get a crumb ont
believe to goodness he dropped that trunk a-pup-
pus. He'd been hankerin' after them snaps ever
since baked EN-, eyein' of'e as a pig eyes green
corn; but they're meat for his masters now tell ye
He can live OH mush jest as good"
Philip went into Mr.. Grey's studio in New York
ready and glad to learn his art. The pictures that
haunted his brain were at last to find adequate
pressions; but, like all true geninscs method
material could satisfy him. lie was never weary of
studying tints and forms; but the mocking shades
of nature that demand texture In their production,
well color and shape the lucent spaces of at
mosphere. the dancing beryl lights of water the
million phases of verdue-all these defed and haf-
fed his def brush, his varihued palette.
He despaired thousand times but he had the
patience of genius well its divine despair and
worked steadily toward the ends he designed and
desired, Twice in the course of four years he went
home for summers rest, and once painted for his
mother so lovely picture of her cows standing
under great oak in the pasture. knee-deep in the
tiny pond over which the wide branches spread YER
dant shelter, that Mrs. Burr thought it mraculous
Looks as though they'd stomp and splash every
minnit, was Airnndys comment, as she eyed II with
her head askew and her arms akimbo
But after four years the artist fever Gang upon
him; he must go abroad, And having sold few
pictures. and said goodby to his mother he sailed
ior Italy in returning fruit ship. and for years
Feeding Hills saw his face no more.
But Mrs. Burr and Mirandy went on in the old
routine; the great farm was leased to a neghbor;
Luke still did chores" and at odd moments courted
Mirandy. who neither refused nor accepted him.
Well" she acknowledged, when he reproached
her with heruncertain replies, "whatefI be whiile
minded? But l amt Truth is that ef I said
wouldn't never have ye, you'd go flynn off the han
die and you're sort OF handy to hey round; you
know the ways. and you're n master-hand to keep
up wood-shed an don't want to see ye a-danglin
after that shifesE Poll Shaw; hut as for marryn of
ofye, an bein' so to speak, tied up sot I'd hev to
foller where you went mabbe to leave MIS- Burr for
good an all, why, wouldn't think ont. She amt
no more fit to be left alone here than nothing an
won't do It,"
well, 1 don't ask ye to, dol Why can't we set
tie down right as we bey An I'd take the farm
then"
'YeS. an fetch q lot of men into my clean kitchen
hayin time to gobhle vittles FIVE times a day say
nothin' of weakly lambs to coddle an barrels of
milk to strain and skim. It's too much pork for a
shillin. Luke Vedder. Ef you can't wait can; an
Ill stick to Mis- Burr amt none of your rovers.
But Luke waited He knew well how comfortable
pOSitOh idlicu W MS iOI
So Mrs. Burr lived on in peace there were no In
noyations on the routine of life In Feeding Hills
The Puritan Recorder was the only newspaper known
in that quiet homestead and only the religions col
umns interested Hannah Burr. She had letters
from Philip once fortnight knitting sewing. house
keeping, to do, and her simple practical placid
ture neither craved excitement nor knew It's pleas.
ures. Her hair gradually wlened her faco lost its
bloom heF eye its sparkle, but she was lovely still
for the peace of an autumnal sunset rested on her
calm oounlenance, a tint of lnger rose erept over
her cheek II wind or sun chilled or warmed it, her
eyes wore yet the innocent open look of earlier
years and the slight trim figure in its old fashioned
garments was neither bent nor made gross by age.
But Philip was leading quite another life. Eager
in his zeal to attain perfection he was fast making
for himselfa name and fame among his comSeesa
He had met lovely young AiacTipan girl in Flor
enee and married. her there, and children were
growing up about him. Thirty years full life and
increasing success in foreign country would have
perhaps efiaeed his love fol, his own had not his
mothers tender simple letters kept the dormant
affection for his birthplace still alive and every
year he promised himself to go home but never
went
One day in early WiAter, however, lhore came TO
him anptheF letter in the same mail with his mothers
"a letter from Mirandy. running thus:
FEEDING HILLS, November Tenth.
DEAR PIILLY.-I rite TO say we are All in Health
| accepting Your ma; she is quite Poorly, want her
10 hey the Horse Eckeleq ql and Go % see Doctor,
bgt she do9nt Want TO- seq IT'S Rumalia but it ainti
so as she cant Breath, feel Consarned about her,
50 50 does luke, We, wish You wood come Bac,
think she hankerS for you Quite little, Do Hurry
up, says In the ReedeF
This is my Own my Native land.
and amt il yourn forrin Parts had ought to be con-
siderible well Viewed by this time Respects to your
wife and Children. yours to command
"she dono that have writ ye don't Speak ont"
This queer letter filled Philip Burr with anxiety.
His mother was over seventy. Al her age she could
pot beaf mHcp For the inst time he began to sec that
h6 ought not to have left her. At first his passion
for his art had filed his thoughts that his mother
had small place in them, and the old saying that
"ove runs down. not up" has IN ita certain truth.
He had outGFoWn utterly his early life and routine
and detail had seemed terribly iFksome and duh 10
him on his few brief visits TO his home. He had not
then been old enough TO appreciate the idyllic SIM
plley and purity of his mothers nature and thirty
years of separation life ties far stronger than
ili6i, had superseded whatever tender ma4aaries
fingered in his heart Hehad sometimes since he had
children Of hs own thought regrefully of his moth
eF; but be had made for himself home in Italy and,
mother-like she had never urged him 10 return,
Gould he know-woaid any man be likely to know
or imagine-the deep longing to sec her only boy
that underlay such quiet words as these:
~ hope you are WELL dear Philip, know you can
not come home to see me- but think great deal
about you and your folks and pray for you all evssy
day. Feeding Hills is about as YOU Iaft IT, but ex.
pect should not knew my boyif eyer see him
again.
GOULD he hear in these simple phrases, that SEEM
ed accept the situation that parted them so calmly,
the cry Rachel mourning for her children? ?' Ali
who can tell in weak mortal speech the miraculous
patience the utter selfshness the depth and height
of motherhood Has not God Himself set II as the
highest measure of His ewpq ia IL not the inteTpre-
tatlnn Of nlvine love- in its Devotion its unexacting
endurance its lavish giving lis exhaustlesS forgive
ness? What other human passion does not pale
before II taper in the broad efulgent light of
dawn?
1t had come about that before Mirandy's letter
reached Philip Burr he had heard of the death of
his wifes uncle in New York. Mr.. V4ndype was a
bachelor, and very wealthy, and Euphemia had
been hs favoTte uiooe always; now, from the death
of her sster and brother, she was his only near rel
atye, and his great fortune fell TO her In the com
ing spring Philip expected to go back to America
and take possession of all this for Mrs Burr did not
like to take her family to so cold climate in the
winter. Now, however, she Urged Ehiiip TO take
them all home; taeir uncles house was ready 10
PeSeive them, as his old housekeeper remained in
charge still; and 1t seemed to Euphemia Burr me-
cessity that for few years least they should stay
in America and look after the property 50 they
packed all their goods-not brief or easy thing
aheF all those years Of ACKNOWLEDGEMENT in jan
uary arrived in New York, and found themselves at
home. and, after some weeks of work, thoroughly
settled In Mr. Vandyne's house Philips reputation
had gone before him. and he was rendered dinners,
receptions and all sorts of hospitality at once; but
as soon as his wife and children were made COM
Portable he hurried to Feeding Hills He had taken
the precauton to write his mother before they left
Europe, and tWiee sinla they arrived in America,
the last time TO announce his coming TO her. but
still he startled to the ghastly palor of her
cheek as she arose to welcome him, pressing one
hand on her breast and gasping for breath. Miriam
dy who had come out at the sonnd of wheels, put
one sturdy arm about her.
''Now don't ye. dear-don't 'Tis Phil, and 20
knew he was comm. Here, smell 10 the campfire.
There there set back in the rocker, an I'll fan
Ye."
I'm better" she said, family. forcing a pale
smile. But 1t was many minutes before she could
do more than look at Philip speak further. AS